Bayou Moon (The Edge #2)(56)
Author: Ilona Andrews

William strapped the sleeper to his wrist. It was a complicated gadget, all clockwork gears and magic, embedded into a leather wrist guard. Four narrow metal barrels sat in a row on top of the sleeper. William pulled three thin wire loops from the underside of the wrist guard and threaded them on his index, middle, and ring fingers. He spread his fingers. The barrels rotated around his wrist like chambers on a revolver. If he flexed his wrist, driving the heel of his hand forward, the lowest barrel would fire, spitting a small canister armed with a needle. The canister held enough narcotic to put a large man into a deep sleep within three seconds.

It was an elegant weapon. He would miss the Mirror’s toys when this was over.

The traitor would head for the Mire. He was sure of it. First, he had already learned that nothing that happened within earshot of the Mar house stayed private. Second, Lark mentioned a monster in the woods. Cerise said Lark thought of herself as a monster, but he wasn’t sure she was right. The kid might’ve been confused. She might’ve seen something in the fog and the trees she couldn’t explain to her sister. Some of the Hand’s agents had enough enhancements to give a grown man nightmares, let alone a child. If Lark had found an odd, scary creature in the woods, he wanted to meet it.

He had a very simple plan: keep watch, identify the traitor as he or she left for the woods, then follow their trail to the wonderful presents that waited on the other end. He might get a drop on the Hand’s agent and follow him to whatever deep dark hole Spider claimed as his lair in the swamp.

Perhaps he might even let the Hand’s agent see him, William decided. Then they would have to have a conversation. Maybe some bones would even get broken. He chuckled soundlessly.

The window slid open without a sound. He eased through it onto the long balcony and crouched down, moving away into the deeper shadow by the rail.

The moon dipped in and out of ragged clouds. In the distance an old gator voiced a lazy roar. The wind smelled of water and the mimosa-tinted perfume of night needle flowers.

It had been a while since he’d hunted, and the night was calling.

Below, past the rail, the yard lay empty. William sat still, quiet and patient.

Minutes stretched like honey.

A faint shiver troubled the cypress branches to the left. A boy with a rifle. No older than twelve.

Another stir, to the right. A young woman in the pine. Judging by the distance between the trees, a third look-out probably waited on the opposite side of the house. They faced out, watching the Mire. None saw him.

A door closed shut with a quiet thump up ahead.

He slipped along the balcony, staying in the shadows, and sank down by the rail again. The spot gave him a view of a narrow slice of the front balcony and most of the staircase.

Measured footsteps, followed by a barely audible second set. He’d learned that second sound very well by now. Kaldar. Ugh.

The wind fetched their scents for him. Yeah, Kaldar and Richard. Those two were on the top of his traitor suspect list. Kaldar had the air of a man who always needed money but never had enough. The Hand paid well. When they didn’t murder their hirelings, that was.

Richard was a different story. William had picked Catherine’s brains while sitting in the library and listened to the family’s chatter for the entire evening until he’d pieced together the family tree. Grandmother Az had seven children. Of the seven, Alain Mar had been the oldest. Alain had three children, Richard, Kaldar, and Erian. When the Sheeriles had shot Alain in the market place, Richard was seventeen, Kaldar was fourteen, and Erian was ten. The family reins passed to Gustave, Cerise’s father. Cerise’s parents had taken Erian, because his brothers had been too young to take care of him.

Richard smelled like a natural alpha. Rational, calm, respected, from what little William had seen. People looked up to him, Cerise included. But Richard wasn’t in charge. Cerise was. Why?

He liked Richard for the traitor. The bulk of Cerise’s relatives consisted of her cousins, their children, and relatives by marriage, but only the core of the family knew about Urow meeting Cerise. He’d managed to narrow it down to eight people: Cerise, Richard, Kaldar, Erian, Murid, Petunia, and Ignata.

Catherine mentioned that Richard’s wife had left him about a year ago. Spouses didn’t seem to last among Mars.

If he had a wife and she left him, he would feel powerless, William decided. He would try to find the biggest, baddest asshole and take him down. It wouldn’t matter if he won or lost the fight. Either way, he’d replace the emotional hurt with real physical pain, something he could deal with, something that did eventually get better. They were similar, Richard and he. They both kept things contained inside. He’d sat next to Richard during the evening for a few minutes. They didn’t say a word to each other, sharing a calm silence. Richard had shown emotion only once. They’d both watched Kaldar slip the knife back into the sheath on Erian’s belt, and Richard had permitted himself a long-suffering sigh.

Maybe Richard wanted to prove to everyone that he wasn’t as powerless as his wife had made him feel.

"The man carries military-grade explosives in his pack," Richard said quietly. "They came from the Weird. The magic aftershock was so strong, my teeth hurt."

"Cerise said he used to be a soldier." Kaldar’s tone was light. "William’s obviously on a hunting expedition. As long as he hunts the other side, we win."

They were talking about him. Ha!

The two men stayed silent for a long moment.

"I didn’t hit that door," Richard said.

"Hm?"

"The door to the Bunker. It was all him. He knocked it out, before I hit it. I barely grazed it."

"So you’re sore, because you missed out on a bruise on your shoulder?" Kaldar asked.

"After we got Mikita out, I looked at the Bunker. One of those big storage shelves had fallen against the door. The weight of the door plus the shelf …"

"Richard, I told you today that you’re like a mother hen." Kaldar took a few steps down the stairs, coming into his view. William stayed still.

"You have to loosen up, brother. You’re so tense, you’ll get the lot of us killed."

"The man is dangerous."

Kaldar raised his arms. "Of course he’s dangerous. You’ve got to have balls to come out after the Hand. They hunt; they don’t get hunted. Besides, you know she wouldn’t have brought him here if they didn’t reach some sort of agreement. She trusts him and I trust her."

"She’s young. Don’t tell me you can’t see what’s going on. I saw the way she looked at him when he dragged her up the stairs. Her parents are gone. She isn’t thinking clearly."

Kaldar turned on his foot on the stair. William had to give it to the man – Kaldar had balance.